She’s gone before I can respond.

Logan pokes his head into the room. Everything ok?

I nod. My mom said my presence is requested at a party tomorrow. I raise an eyebrow at him. Any chance you could go with me?

He pulls his head back, his chin pushing toward his chest as he looks down at me. What kind of party?

The really fancy kind.

His gaze shoots toward his closet, and I can already see him trying to plan.

My mom said she would send clothes for both of us. I hold my breath waiting for his response. I need clothes too.

Is it important to you?

Is it? No. It’s important to my father. I have to go. And if you don’t go, I’ll be stuck with Trip all night.

I can see the look in his eyes when it’s settled. I’m going.

You don’t have to.

I’m going.

He motions for me to come back out and join his brothers. I push back my fears about tomorrow. I grab his elbow as he walks by me, pulling him around. He wraps his arms around me and I think I’m going to get a quick hug, but his hands slide down over my ass and he hoists me up. I wrap my legs around his waist as he pushes me against the wall.

“Wow,” I breathe. But he can’t hear me. His lips touch mine, kissing me hard, like he didn’t just spend last night in my bed. He licks into me, and I slide my tongue against the soft rasp of his. He steals my wits with every kiss. With every touch, he takes my breath.

He lifts his head and brushes his nose against mine, back and forth in little sweeps.

His arms are braced on the wall beside my head, and I turn to press my lips against the tattoo on his inner forearm. It’s the tattoo I drew, and it represents so much about our love for one another. I drew the guitar with the broken strings, shackles, and thorns when I was lost. And Logan added the keyhole to the center. He unlocked my world. And I’m not lost anymore.

I tip his face to mine so he can see my lips. “Let’s skip the party,” I suggest.

He heaves a sigh. “We can’t.” He presses his face into my neck and inhales deeply. Then he unhooks my legs from around his waist. “They rented a movie.”

I can just imagine car chases and guns. They are boys after all. “My kind or your kind?” I ask.

“There are no gender delineations here,” he teases, shaking his finger at me. He takes my hand and pulls me out of the room. Paul is in the lazy chair with Hayley in his lap, reading a book, and Sam and Pete are on one of the sofas. Matt is alone on the other, so I sit down beside him and lean into his shoulder. He reaches up to tousle my hair and smiles at me.

“I’m glad you’re back, kid,” he says. I lean more heavily into him, and he lifts his arm to the back of the sofa so I can nestle into his side. I breathe him in. He’s so much softer than Logan. But the cancer took its toll. He’s lost weight, and he has dark shadows beneath his eyes.

“You sure you’re okay?” I whisper to him. He looks down at me and tweaks my nose as Logan pulls my feet into his lap.

I lay my head on Matt’s thigh and he leans down to whisper to me. “Quit worrying about me and enjoy being back.” His hand strokes absently down the length of my hair as someone presses “play” to start the movie. I love this gentle giant.

The movie starts, and it’s not a thriller or a car chase. There’s no shooting. It’s a love story. My eyes well up with tears, and I scrub them on Matt’s leg.

“There’s no place like home,” I say quietly.

***

I wake up to the feel of being hoisted in the air. I reach for Logan’s neck, and he chuckles. “I got you,” he says to assure me.

“Don’t drop her,” Matt warns.

“I let you snuggle with her all through the movie,” Logan complains. But I can tell he’s not angry. “But she’s my girlfriend. And I’m not going to drop my girlfriend.” He nods toward Matt’s room. “You going to bed?” Logan asks.

Matt stretches and groans. “In a minute.” He stretches his leg out in front of him and wiggles his feet. “My f**king leg’s asleep.”

“That’s what you get for stealing my girl,” Logan scolds.

Matt laughs. “It was f**king worth it.” He calls to me, “Love you, kid!”

“Love you, too,” I say back. Matt’s voice is playful, but he means it. He does love me. I’ve become the honorary sister he never wanted. Or at least that’s how I see myself. I hope he sees me the same way.

The lights flash, and Logan looks back over his shoulder. His brothers do that to get his attention when he’s not looking. “What?” Logan asks. He hoists me higher.

Paul points toward the drawer full of condoms and arches his brow. It’s a house full of men, and they have a kitchen drawer full of condoms. It works for them, but heat creeps up my face when Paul points out that Logan needs to get one.

“Be right back,” Logan says.

He carries me into the bedroom and pulls back the covers. “I need to go talk to Paul,” he says. He bends down with the intention of kissing me.

“To talk about condoms?” I ask.

He grins. “Among other things.”

“What other things?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. But he has that look on his face like he needs to talk to me.” His lips brush mine quickly. “Be right back.”

He walks out the door, and I can’t be angry that Paul is trying to keep Logan safe. It’s what he does.